Idk if ur taking requests with the dialog thing but if you are I'd love to see either 1 or 8 for Marvin/Whizzer
I did little drabbles for both of these! Enjoy!
#1 “I’m sorry. It’s just everytime you open your mouth, you seem to get even more annoying. Does it take effort to do that?”
“What?” Marvin sputters. He’s blinking too much and his face has gone equal parts pale and flushed. Whizzer knows he’s struck a nerve, and for some reason, that thrills him.
“Look,” Whizzer goes on, leaning in closer to Marvin and placing his hand on Marvin’s knee. “If you’re trying to get in my pants, you’re doing a terrible job. I’m not usually attracted to guys who argue with me, about anything.”
“I’m- I’m not–” Marvin’s still so flustered. If Whizzer didn’t know any better, he’d think it was cute.
“Ah,” Whizzer nods and leans back a little. “So it’s like that.”
“It’s not-” Marvin’s suddenly defensive. “It’s not like anything.”
“Alright,” Whizzer says, giving a half nod and taking a sip of his drink. “Whatever you say, Marv–” “Don’t call me ‘Marv’.”
“–but if you change your mind, I’ll be in the men’s room for the next, say, ten minutes? If you’re interested.” He taps Marvin’s knee again, then slips off his barstool and practically saunters to the bathroom, pretending he doesn’t notice Marvin’s eyes on his ass the entire time.
#8 “Do you love me?” “Depends on how much food you brought me.”
Whizzer’s sprawled out on the couch, watching some trashy television show when Marvin finally gets home. He’s half asleep, his mouth hanging open so that pretty pink lips make a slack-jawed ‘o’.
Marvin slings his jacket over the back of the la-z-boy, and Whizzer shoots awake. It’s like he’s got some sixth sense that activates whenever Marvin creates some clutter.
But Whizzer doesn’t say anything about the jacket. He just stretches and smiles, “Welcome home.” Marvin leans in for a kiss, but Whizzer wrinkles his nose and pushes him away.
“Do you even love me?” Marvin asks melodramatically as Whizzer sits up.
“I dunno.” Whizzer admits with a shrug and smirk, gesturing to the take-out bag still hanging from Marvin’s hand. “Depends on how much food you brought me.”